


Okay, Then.

by captain_americano



Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Age of Consent, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Boys Kissing, Condoms, Confessions, Consensual Sex, Consent, Consent is Sexy, Crossdressing, De River Nial, Denial, Dirty Talk, Feelings, Feels, First Time, Foreplay, Kissing, Loss of Virginity, M/M, PWP, Panties, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Smut, about Peter's age, safe sex, that is, tony likes to pretend Peter is 18 and Peter goes along with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 08:52:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12453876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captain_americano/pseuds/captain_americano
Summary: Peter Parker buys the perfect dress to wear to Mister Stark's gala, but Tony thinks Peter's dress looks better on his bedroom floor.





	Okay, Then.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, alls I wanted was some hardcore, dirty, semi-illegal, underage (above age of consent?) Peter/Tony fucking for the first time in Tony's workshop. Instead I got feelings involved. And apparently I dig Peter cross dressing, because this is the second fic I've posted in less than 24hrs featuring Peter in a pretty dress.
> 
> ALSO: Peter is 16 in this fic. ALSO, ALSO: I have very strong feelings about Peter calling Tony "Mister Stark" as you can probably tell...

Peter swallowed nervously as he checked himself out in the mirrored walls of the elevator. He was currently riding up to the ballroom where Mister Stark was hosting a gala to raise money for LGBT Youth Support, and there was no prize for guessing why the philanthropist invited him. Somewhere between turning down a place in the Avengers Initiative, and starting a genuine intern position with Stark Industries, Peter and Mister Stark had moved from professionals, to friends. And it was _almost_ enough for Peter.

Peter glanced at his reflection, straightening his dress slightly. It was floor length and blood red, gathered around his waist, and had a high, black, lacey neckline. Finding a dress to complement the juxtaposition of his hard muscles, and almost girlish curves was difficult, but he was pretty sure he'd nailed it this time around -- with help from May, of course. Black wedged heels peeked out from underneath the hemline -- he hadn't quite managed to master walking in pumps or stilettos yet -- and he was holding a small black clutch in his right hand. His makeup was neat and understated, and his short hair carefully swept to the side.

Peter didn't often indulge this side of himself… He could just imagine Flash taunting him if he dared wear a skirt to school, and it didn't really seem to be appropriate lab-wear either. And most of the time he was happy and comfortable to wear men's clothing, but sometimes he just wanted to feel pretty and glamorous, and tonight that was exactly how he was feeling.

He knew he shouldn't be nervous, the type of people who went to a benefit for this sort of thing wouldn't be likely to judge him, least of all the man organising the function… But he couldn't help worry that Mister Stark would be mad. He was also partially nervous because he'd never been to a black-tie event before, and the only person he knew who was going was Mister Stark himself, who would probably be far too busy schmoozing to waste time with Peter.

All too quickly the elevator stopped and opened into a large atrium, all hard angles and greyscale. It was void of people, but Peter could hear music and conversation flowing from the connecting ballroom, so he slowly made his way through the large double doors and into the crowded room. His eyes darted around the room, looking for a familiar face, but instead he was greeted with an anxiety-inducing amount of strangers.

Peter hesitated a few steps into the room, wondering what his next move should be. He grabbed a champagne flute from a passing waiter, and despite the fact he was far too young to be drinking, no one batted an eye. He carefully walked over to the edge of the room, trying to assess the best way to go about the evening. He knew he'd have to talk to people, meaning he had to try to push his awkwardness aside. He took a sip of the champagne, hoping it would help.

Before he could convince himself to move into the crowds, a tall girl with blonde hair was approaching him, wearing a friendly smile.

"I wish I could pull off red like you do -- I _love_  your dress," she said, gesturing her own black dress, "unfortunately this is the best I can do these days. At least black goes with everything, although you seem to have figured _that_ out!"

"Oh, um -- thank you," Peter said, his cheeks warming at the compliment. "I think you look very nice, and you're shoes are cute, um…?"

"Gwen," she said, holding out her hand, which Peter hastily shook. "I work part-time in the biochem department."

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Peter," he smiled. "Intern with R&D."

"Oh, cool! D'ya wanna come and meet some of the other employees? A few of the other younger staff were invited to tip the scales, I think, and some of them are pretty cool," Gwen offered, peering around the room, before perking up as someone caught her eye.

"Yeah, that sounds good," Peter says honestly, "I have no idea what I'm doing, I've never been to one of these things before," he admitted.

"Me neither," Gwen said, giving him a small, encouraging smile. "C'mon, I think you'll like Dave from engineering."

So Peter went with Gwen to a small group of interns and part time employees all working their way through high school or college. Peter was enjoying talking to people his own age, with similar interests, but he couldn't stop sending furtive glances around the room, looking for Mister Stark. After a while, he just gave up and tried to focus wholly on the conversation with a group of benefactors Gwen had unwittingly dragged him into.

After nearly five minutes, he was starting to feel more at ease in the presence of the strangers, when he felt a warm hand pressing gently on his elbow. He jumped in surprise, his Spidey Sense failing to alert him to the incoming presence.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt, but I need to borrow young Peter here for a moment," Mister Stark said, oozing charm and grinning easily. "I hope you're all enjoying the evening. Peter, if you will?" He phrased it like a request, but Peter could hear the command in his tone, and could definitely feel it in the way Mister Stark kept hold of his elbow and steered him away from the conversation.

Peter tried to surreptitiously read Mister Stark's face, but the billionaire's publicity mask was firmly in place, and Peter's stomach twisted nervously as he was lead out of the ballroom and into the elevator.

As soon as the doors closed, Mister Stark is pressed right up against the elevator wall, as far from Peter as he can manage in the small space. His eyes betray a dark and unfamiliar emotion, and his hands are clenched into fists in his pockets. Peter opens his mouth a couple of times to say something -- anything -- but he can't seem to form words.

The elevator doors open into Mister Stark's penthouse, and the genius brushes past him and heads straight for the bar. Peter slowly trails behind him, his wedges clunking far too loudly against the tiled floor in the dead silence. Mister Stark pours two tumblers of an amber liquid, and holds one out to Peter, before drawing it back when Peter reaches out to accept it.

"You're eighteen, right?" Mister Stark asks, giving him a pointed look.

Peter hesitates for a moment, but nods, "Yes, Mister Stark."

Peter wasn't entirely sure why he asked -- he was certain Mister Stark had information on every mundane detail of Peter's life, probably right down to the size of the matching black lace panties and bralette hidden beneath his dress.

"Good," Mister Stark says, and hands Peter the glass. Peter takes a polite sip, his face scrunching up in distaste as Mister Stark downs his in one go. Peter tries for another sip, but this time it tastes worse, if that's even possible, so he sets the glass down. Mister Stark huffs out a faint laugh, presumably at Peter's expense, and takes a step closer.

Peter can feel his heart racing. He's not sure why Mister Stark brought him here, and he still can't get a read on the elder's emotions. He doesn't know if he should be expecting a berating, or a rousing science discussion. Why would Tony Stark skip out on his own party to waste his time with some sixteen year old kid?

"I'm going to do something I definitely shouldn't, and you need to stop me," Mister Stark says quietly, and reaches out to gently cup Peter's jaw. _Oh,_ Peter thinks, feeling his breathing hitch.

"Why on earth would I try to stop you, Mister Stark?" He asks, waiting patiently as Mister Stark leans in and carefully brushes his lips against Peter's. Peter brings his hand up to thread it in Mister Stark's hair, holding him closer as his beard tickles Peter's skin. Mister Stark responds by bringing his other hand to Peter's waist, pulling him close, and Peter can't help the small, breathy moan he lets out.

Just like that, the dam breaks, and Mister Stark is everywhere, touching, feeling, holding, _kissing._ Peter opens up to him, and he can taste the small amount of alcohol on Mister Stark's tongue, and he finds it much more agreeable this time. Mister Stark is doing wonderful things with his hands and tongue, and Peter feels like he might've died and gone to heaven.

"Honestly, Peter, you need to stop me, right now," Mister Stark says, pulling away, the dark look still present in his eyes, but this time Peter finally recognises it, and is absolutely _floored_ that it's directed at him. _Desire._

"Please don't, Mister Stark," Peter says quietly, tugging lightly at the elder's lapels and looking up at him. Even in wedges, he barely reaches Mister Stark's chin. "Don't stop."

"God, you're so fucking gorgeous, Peter," Mister Stark says, grabbing the back of Peter's neck and pulling him in for another heated kiss. Peter responds with enthusiasm, and Mister Stark's hands are roaming again, this time settling on his ass and pulling him closer. Peter gasps and tilts his head back as Mister Stark brushes his clothed erection against Peter's, giving the elder full access to attack his neck. Peter clutches at Mister Starks hair, holding on for dear life as the man nips and laves at his sensitive neck, kissing up his jawline and biting down on his ear. "I want you so bad, Peter, god," Mister Stark groans.

Peter's head is spinning, and he can't believe this is happening. God, _years_ he's been crushing on Tony Stark, the public figure, CEO, businessman, engineer, _hero._ And then he actually met the man, and he was so much more incredible than Peter had ever given him credit for. _Months_ he's known Tony Stark as a friend and confidant, and has developed very deep feelings for him, and now he's here, and he's in a pretty dress, and he's being kissed breathless by this man who is larger than life, and it's all a bit overwhelming.

Peter squeezes his eyes shut and takes a few deep breaths. When he feels more grounded, he opens his eyes to find Mister Stark watching him, concern etched deep into his features.

"I'm sorry, Peter," Mister Stark says, taking a step back, and that's so completely opposite to what Peter wants.

"No," Peter says quickly, stepping forward and latching onto Mister Stark's shoulders. "Please don't apologise, Mister Stark. I… I want," Peter says hesitantly, trailing off. He's not quite sure _what_ he wants.

Mister Stark relaxes a hair, and takes Peter's hand. "Peter, I want whatever you're willing to give me. Why don't we go and get a little more comfortable? I promise I won't do anything you don't want, you just say the word, or even if you look the slightest bit uncomfortable, I'll back off, okay?" Mister Stark says, open and honest, and Peter is lost for words. He nods gratefully, and leans in to kiss the elder again, trying to convey as much appreciation as possible in his embrace.

They break apart, and Mister Stark leads him by the hand through the penthouse, and to his large bedroom. He sits Peter on the edge of the California king bed, and kneels before him. Peter can feel his heart thrumming, and he swears it skips a beat when Mister Stark looks up at him questioningly. Peter nods his consent jerkily, not wanting to say anything that might make the elder change his mind.

"God, Peter, I want to make you feel so good," Mister Stark says, slipping Peter's shoes off his feet, his hands slipping under the dress and bunching it up as he kisses his way up Peter's shaven calfs. Peter lets out a shaky breath as Mister Stark nips at his inner thigh. "As beautiful as this dress is, and as stunning as you look in it," Mister Stark says, standing and kicking his own shoes off. He takes Peter's hands, raises him to a standing position as well before whispering, "I need you out of it, if you're comfortable with that."

"Y-yes, Mister Stark," Peter breathes, his head spinning as Mister Stark slowly drags the fabric up over his thighs, above his hips and waist, and finally gently pulls it over his head before tossing it aside. Peter can feel his blush spreading from his cheeks to the tip of his ears and right down to his chest as Mister Stark eyes him hungrily, taking in every inch of his exposed skin, and his lacey underwear.

"You're so beautiful, Peter," Mister Stark says, leaning in to kiss Peter deeply. Peter lets himself be gently lowered onto the bed, and loves the feeling of Mister Stark settling warm and heavy on top of him. He's wearing far too many clothes, though, so Peter fiddles with his bow tie, tugging it loose before working on the buttons of his shirt. He slips his hands along the planes of Mister Stark's tanned chest, relishing in the miles of smooth, warm skin, and the elder's breath hitches when Peter thumbs over his nipples. "God, you're gonna kill me," Mister Stark groans, leaning down and resting his head against Peter's collarbone.

"Mister Stark, I-I need…" Peter whines, bucking his hips up, grinding his aching dick against the elder's. God, he's been hard since Mister Stark first touched him.

"Shh, I got you, Peter," Mister Stark whispers, sliding down the bed, kissing and licking his way down Peter's chest and stomach. Peter's toes curl at the almost ticklish feeling, and he lets out a breathy sigh as he threads his fingers through Mister Stark's hair.

Suddenly, his dick is enveloped in a warm, slick heat through the lace panties, and Peter nearly screams. Mister Stark looks up with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Ever had your dick sucked, Peter?" He asks innocently, tonguing at Peter through the lace.

"N-no, sir," Peter stutters. God, he's never even freaking _kissed_ anyone before tonight, and the thought that Tony Stark might be his first _everything_ has him mentally reciting the quadratic formula to stave off his orgasm. Mister Stark chuckles, and torturously pulls Peter's panties down, inch by inch. Peter lifts his hips as Mister Stark slips his panties down, and they too are thrown across the room without a care. Mister Stark blows lightly on Peter's exposed skin, and goosebumps erupt down his thighs. The elder grins, and then dives in.

Peter thinks he might've hit his head too hard yesterday during his bout with Rhino, because there's no way anything can feel _this fucking good._ Mister Stark is swallowing him whole, bobbing up and down, letting his tongue trace loose patterns on the underside of Peter's cock. He's sucking, and licking, and throwing in the slightest graze of teeth. He dips his tongue along Peter's slit, and mouths his way back down before laving at Peter's balls. "God, yeah, keep making those pretty noises for me, Peter," Mister Stark groans, and Peter hadn't even noticed he'd been whining and breathing heavily, his hands still clutched firmly in Mister Stark's hair.

Peter lets out a loud cry as Mister Stark slips lower, gently massaging his balls with his hands as his tongue darts further down. "Oh, m-my god, Mister St-Stark," Peter whimpers, wanting to pull away in sheer mortification as Mister Stark kitten licks at his most private, secret spot.

"Do you want me to stop, Peter?" Tony asks, cocking an eyebrow as he pulls back. Peter squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head no, but Mister Stark doesn't go back to touching him. Peter glances down at the elder, who is looking at him seriously. "I need you to say it, Peter. Consent is sexy," he grins, and Peter huffs a laugh despite himself.

"Please, Mister Stark," Peter says softly, worried his voice might break, "Please k-keep going."

Mister Stark hums his approval, and presses soft kisses into Peter's thighs. "God, I'm gonna get you so wet, Peter, I'll eat your pretty little pussy out for hours until you're crying and begging me to come," he says, working teasing little licks down the joint of Peter's thigh until he reaches Peter's perineum, grazing his teeth against his sensitive skin.

"P-please, Mister Stark," Peter whines, his hips shifting subconsciously. Mister Stark presses in closer, and traces his tongue around the ring of muscle, and Peter knows he's going to be jerking off to the lewd, wet sounds, and the memory of tonight for the rest of his goddamn life. Mister Stark runs the flat of his tongue across Peter's entrance, before dipping the pointed tip in, just slightly. Peter cries out at the intrusion, but god, if he thought the blow job was good, he was in fucking _heaven_ right now.

Mister Stark kept up a steady rhythm, circling Peter's entrance, pressing his flattened tongue along the muscle, and dipping the tip in, gradually going deeper and deeper. Peter felt his inner thighs chafing slightly against Mister Stark's beard, the light burn adding to the experience rather than detracting from it.

"Do you think you can take a finger?" Mister Stark asks politely, as though he were simply asking for the time. Peter tries to remember the ninety-sixth digit of Pi so that he doesn't embarrass himself.

"Y-yes, _please,"_ he said, and god, really, he was _begging._ He could _hear_ the plea in his own voice, and he couldn't find it in him to care. Mister Stark grinned manically, and rolled off the bed, walking around to rummage in the top drawer of the bedside table. He pulled out a box of condoms, and a tube of raspberry flavoured lube. Peter would probably make fun of him -- he's a _teenager_ and even he doesn't care for flavoured lube -- if he weren't so ridiculously turned on.

"Peter, it's never too late to back out, okay?" Mister Stark says seriously, catching Peter's eye and holding his gaze. Peter returns his stare with as much trust and openness as he can.

"I don't want to back out, Mister Stark," he says, and the elder looks like he's about to say something else, so Peter interrupts him. "I'll let you know if it's too much," he promises quietly. Mister Stark holds his gaze for another moment, and nods.

The elder strips away his clothes, leaving them in a messy pile on the floor at the foot of the bed. While he does this, Peter strips himself of his bralette, and tries to relax, to not seem too nervous. Mister Stark gives him a warm look, and climbs back onto the bed, settling above Peter. He leans down and kisses him, and Peter blushes when he can taste himself on Mister Stark's lips, dark and heady, another brand new experience.

Mister Stark kisses him deeply and thoroughly, though it doesn't quite distract Peter from the _snick_ of the lube opening. Peter takes a deep breath, and Mister Stark nips at his jaw as he slips his hand between Peter's legs and gently traces his entrance with a cool, slick finger. "P-please," Peter begs, his nose filled with the scent of raspberry, and his head swimming with the feeling of Mister Stark.

Peter feels his finger slip in up to the first knuckle, sliding in easily. His breath hitches as Mister Stark slowly pushes it in further, before crooking the digit and sliding it back out. "Oh," Peter exhales a shuddery breath.

"How does it feel?" Mister Stark asks, pressing feather light kisses to the underside of Peter's jaw.

"S-so good," Peter whines as Mister Stark pumps in and out, agonisingly slow. Peter shivers when he feels a second finger teasing at his rim. "More," he begs, and Mister Stark obliges, slipping his second finger in.

Peter tries to focus on his breathing as Mister Stark twists and scissors his fingers, the slight burn bleeding away to the pure, heavenly feeling of being filled until --

"Ah, christ, oh, my god," Peter shouts, his hips bucking off the mattress as Mister Stark hits something perfect deep inside of him.

"You like that?" Mister Stark asks, and Peter is about ninety-percent sure he's being a smug asshole about it, because Peter is obviously enjoying it very much, thanks for asking.

"Please, more," he says, not sure what he's asking for, but knowing he wants it. Wants _everything._

Mister Stark slowly slips in his ring finger, but at this point Peter is used to the burn, even enjoys it, so he settles into the mattress, panting and writhing as he subconsciously presses down onto the elder's fingers. Peter's vision blurs as Mister Stark bites down hard on his ear lobe at the same time he rubs against _that spot_ inside of Peter, and he mewls at the feeling.

"What do you want, Peter?" Mister Stark asks, all traces of teasing gone. Peter looks up to meet his deep brown eyes, and cups his cheek, leaning up to kiss the elder, languid and slow.

"Please fuck me, Mister Stark," he whispers, his cheeks heating impossibly further as he asks for what he wants. Mister Stark groans, and rests his forehead against Peter's shoulder.

"Y-yeah, okay," he says, a little shakily, showing Peter a slight crack in his resolve.

Mister Stark gently pulls his fingers out of Peter, who immediately feels empty and briefly mourns the loss. Mister Stark grabs a condom from the pack and tears it open, and Peter uses this moment to take a good look at his elder's naked body. He'd been too distracted by pleasure to notice the lean muscle, the scars and burns from years in the workshop, the big, circular scar on his chest from where the arc reactor once resided. His eyes dipped down, following the dark smattering of hair below Mister Stark's belly button, to the thick, long cock his elder was rolling a condom over. Peter swallowed thickly, wondering if he'd be able to take it -- it was much wider than the three fingers…

Mister Stark applied a generous amount of lube, and settled between Peter's legs. "You sure?" He asked, leaning down so his face was mere inches from Peter's.

"Yes, _please,"_ Peter said impatiently, hooking his ankles in the small of Mister Stark's back, using a tiny bit of his super strength to pull the man closer.

Mister Stark closed the gap and kissed Peter slowly as he gently pressed forward. Peter tried to even his breathing at the intrusion, the burn just on the edge of too painful as Mister Stark sank slowly in. After a full minute, he was fully sheathed, and kept completely still other than to kiss Peter, while the boy got used to the feeling of being full.

"S-so big, Mister Stark," Peter said breathlessly, not quite having the brain capacity to stop himself from primping his elder's already inflated ego. Of course, Mister Stark preened, and grinned into the slow kiss.

"You ready for me to move?" He asked after a couple of minutes of lazy kissing.

"Please," Peter nodded, chasing Mister Stark's mouth as the elder slowly drew out, before sliding back in. "Guh," Peter huffed, his head thumping back against the pillow.

"I got you, Peter," Mister Stark said, wrapping Peter in his arms, and pulling him up so he was seated on the elder's lap. Peter circled his arms around Mister Stark's neck, and held on for dear life as the elder man worked up a rhythm. "God, Peter, you're so tight, you feel so good, baby, so good…"

Peter mouthed numbly at Mister Stark's jaw, pleasure take over his every sense as he was filled, surrounded, held by the man. Mister Stark was fucking him at a brutal pace, now, and with one hand still cradling Peter close, he slipped his other hand between them to wrap around Peter's straining dick. Peter sucked in a breath between his teeth as Mister Stark pumped his cock, flicking his wrist on the upstroke and thumbing the slit.

Suddenly, Mister Stark had canted his hips to a different angle, and started hitting Peter's prostate dead on with every thrust. "Shi -- ah, M-Mister Stark I'm gon-na," Peter tried to warn, but god, it was too much, and he was spilling over Mister Stark's hand and their stomachs, clenching down on his elder's dick.

"God, Peter, fuck," Mister Stark growled, rocking his hips once, twice, thrice more, before sinking his teeth into Peter's shoulder with a broken moan. The room was a spinning haze as Mister Stark carefully lay Peter back down on the mattress, and slowly pulled out of him. "I'm just gonna grab a towel," he whispered, pressing a kiss to Peter's temple before rolling off the bed and slipping the condom off and tying it in a knot. He slipped into the ensuite, and Peter heard the tap running for a moment, and then Mister Stark was back on the bed, wiping a warm cloth at Peter's over-sensitive cock, and cleaning off his stomach as lightly kissed over every inch of Peter's face.

Mister Stark tossed the towel onto the floor, and wrapped his arms around Peter, pulling the boy close. Peter was kind of amazed at how gentle and caring a Mister Stark had been all evening -- the media playing him off like a lust-crazed playboy, and maybe that was somewhat accurate, but he had treated Peter like he was _special._

"Thank you," Peter whispers, rolling onto his side to look up at Mister Stark.

"'Thank you?'" Mister Stark repeats with a grimace, running a hand down his face. "I molested a kid, and he thanks me," he mutters to himself, and Peter stops him with a kiss.

"You didn't molest me -- in case you didn't notice I was a very willing participant," Peter laughed breathlessly.

"God, I really shouldn't have…" Mister Stark sighed, letting go of Peter and rolling onto his back. "Should not have done that."

"Can you please get out of that big, dumbass genius brain of yours for five minutes and just cuddle me?" Peter complained, and to his relief Mister Stark let out a snort, and wrapped his arms around Peter once more.

"You know I'm literally three times your age?" Mister Stark said conversationally, and Peter rolled his eyes behind closed lids.

"You know I literally don't care?" Peter snarked, and he heard Mister Stark huff a laugh. "I've had a crush on you for literally half of my life…" he didn't feel so bad admitting it out loud in the dark room, enjoying the afterglow of his first time.

"Yeah, you weren't subtle," Mister Stark chuckled, and Peter's eyes slammed open as he lightly whacked his elder's arm, embarrassed and offended. "No, it was endearing, really," Mister Stark said indulgently. "I… y'know, thought you were pretty fine too. But," he sighed.

"But I'm so young," Peter rolled his eyes.

"Yeah," Mister Stark frowned at him. "I really was trying to be good. I was fine ignoring all of my sick fantasies, but then I saw you tonight. God, Peter, you don't even know what you do to me…"

Peter leaned up to kiss his elder, sucking on his lower lip. "Mister Stark, I had fun tonight, and I really like you. I… I don't know if -- I mean, I don't know _what_ it meant to you, but I don't regret it, and you shouldn't feel guilty," Peter explained, his heart thrumming as he waited for Mister Stark to respond.

"Okay, first of all," Mister Stark says, cocking an eyebrow, "If I've told you once, I've told you a million times -- call me Tony. I think shoving my tongue in your tight little asshole puts us on a first name basis," he grins, and Peter violently flushes at the vivid memory. Mister Stark -- _Tony_ \-- looks vulnerable for a moment. "I had fun, and I really like you, too. Which makes me sound like I'm in middle school, so maybe my mental age and your literal age are compatible after all."

Peter lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and laughs, genuine and happy. "Okay, then," he says with a grin, and presses a chaste kiss to the corner of Tony's lips.

Tony blinks at him, before a smile slowly spreads across his face. "Okay, then."

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed reading it — I sure had fun writing it!
> 
> Please send me prompts/leave me feedback <3


End file.
